ulness, I shall not
run to seed as you suppose. There are foxes enough to be shot, while my
hand can hold a gun; and when the end of all ends comes, I shall sit
down and write my memoirs, as a pattern to this generation of
propriety--that is, a pattern to be avoided.'

"He now evidently expected his son to take his leave, but Count Ernest
stood still, with his eyes fixed on his father's face. Count Henry did
not seem to feel quite easy under them; he looked annoyed, and added,
as if in jest: 'Well, and don't these prospects please you? I do
believe you have a match all ready made for me, and intend to show me
that your talents in the diplomatic line are greater than I should have
supposed. May I ask who the lady is? I confess I am getting curious. Is
it young F., with her Madonna eyes, and her liberal portion of
freckles? or Comtesse C., with her shortened leg, and her never-ending
giggle, who would persuade herself and the world, (though the world
knows better), that she has not seen sixteen summers?' And so he went
on, through the list of all the young ladies in the neighbourhood,
caricaturing them with a few sharp strokes, but without succeeding in
moving a muscle of his son's countenance."

"When he came to the end: 'You are on the wrong track, dear father,' he
said; 'It is no fine lady I am thinking of, nor should I like to see
any of these in this house, as its mistress. But there is a prize much
nearer home, that I should be glad to see you win. Have you really
never noticed the young lady who helps our Flor to rule the house? She
is fond of you, I know. Her passionate attachment to you has grown too
strong for her to conceal it even from herself.'

"The count stood rooted to the ground, and I saw a dark frown gather on
his brow. But he always knew how to command himself. With a laugh that
did not come from his heart: 'Mort de ma vie!' he cried--'Mamsell
Gabrielle? Why, that would indeed be a triumph of the new school over
the old, if you have managed to discover more in these three weeks,
than I in the last two years!'

"'To be candid with you. Sir,' said Count Ernest, 'I must honestly
confess that I did not discover this until last night--not, at least,
with any certainty. I was witness to the poor girl's struggle when her
brother wanted her to go with him, and I saw that it would be the death
of her to part from you.'

"'Part from me!--stuff and nonsense!' cried his father. 'That brother
of hers startled